Peggy Dover

When the wanderer is denied travel because of weather or other deterrent, stories rise like a warming yeast dough. The longer I’ve been grounded, the more half-baked, er, serendipitous are the facts. This one is unembellished. The following yarn happened last year shortly after Halloween and is not for the squeamish. Ellen made me tell it.

The setting is the Jacksonville Visitor Center — a sweet, historical former train depot in Jacksonville and home away from home to myself and four fabulous women. We are becoming good friends, even though we rarely see each other. Each of us works on different days alone, but we leave notes. It’s not all post cards and trolley rides in the center, let me tell you.

Gretchen the Happenings Gal thinks the catalyst may have been a basket of leftover Halloween candy, but I’m going too fast for a satisfying, drawn-out, column-filling story.

At that time, the Garden Club of Jacksonville stored a hose beneath our bathroom sink during the dry months. They needed it for watering flowers and plants in the beds surrounding the VIC.

One day, I started noticing a faintly unpleasant odor which seemed to be coming from the bathroom. It seemed to come and go. No off-color jokes will ensue, so don’t hold your breath, or do, rather. As the smell grew in intensity, I reasoned it must be that mildewy hose, and I phoned the garden club gal asking her to please pick it up. Ellen (Sugar Babe) and I agreed, it had to go. Sherry, who is yet without a nickname, hadn’t noticed an odor. Stay with me. I reported in our notes the day the hose had “left the building.” We rejoiced and assumed the stink left with it.

After several days, the smell became so intense, it was necessary to leave the bathroom door solidly shut so we could breathe and assume pleasant faces for visitors. At that point, Gretchen noted that something must have died under the building. She began utilizing the visitor facilities across the parking lot. Sherry didn’t smell anything. Nobody knew what to do.

Meanwhile, yours truly continued to hold my nose, until one fateful Friday. I arrived at 9:45 a.m. and let’s just say it’s a bit of a jaunt from Eagle Point to Jacksonville, especially after a couple glasses of water and three mugs of coffee. Upon flushing, little sprigs of a black, fringy substance came floating into the bowl. I looked, trying to figure out what in the world? Remember, I warned you.

Then it registered. It was rat hair. Believe me, things were far worse where I stood. It was Friday and soon to be overtime hours for a plumber. If something wasn’t done soon, we would have to close down or offer gas masks to visitors and call it a WWII reenactment — not everyone would want to play. Brian the trolley driver was there and I said, “I’m calling Hukill’s.” I knew they had a large crew of able-bodied men who were used to all manner of gross undertakings. Sure enough, they had a guy out within the hour — my hero.

Had Mr. Rat asked directions, he could have saved himself and us a lot of trouble. It’s why we’re there. Not only had a now-balding rat taken a wrong turn, it had entombed itself up inside the toilet. The plumber had to remove the entire fixture and replace it with an uninhabited model. I asked him how many times he’d seen that happen. He answered, “In thirty years of plumbing, I’ve never seen it.” It took days for the odor to dissipate.

Sherry never did smell anything, but the other day at our monthly party/meeting, as we reminisced over the “day of the rat,” she set us all straight when she informed convincingly, “I know the smell of death.” We could only say that possibly the grace of God had sheltered her.

Fear not, the infiltrator is long gone and we welcome visitors to our humble office. In fact we’re planning an open house where you can meet all four VIC Chicks and our valiant leader, Julie. It will be held from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., Sunday, April 21. Come prepared for deep discounts of items we sell, refreshments, free brochures and magazines about Southern Oregon and a drawing for a fabulous gift basket full of goodies like narrated trolley tickets, history books and ornaments. Mark your calendar.